


Retroactively

by Wertiyurae



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Dream Bubbles (Homestuck), Dubious Consent, Established Relationship, M/M, Meteorstuck, what is the opposite of purple prose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:13:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24811381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wertiyurae/pseuds/Wertiyurae
Summary: Dave has a plan, and Karkat's willing to help make dreams come true.
Relationships: Dave Strider/Karkat Vantas
Comments: 8
Kudos: 46





	Retroactively

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aceAdoxography](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aceAdoxography/gifts).



> This story is the result of a jam between [ aceAdoxography ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aceAdoxography/pseuds/aceAdoxography) and me on the davekat thirst federation discord. Please heed the warnings.

Dave is expecting something.

He's not sure what; it's just a feeling. A waiting kind of feeling. Anticipation. Like just before opening John's birthday gift. It's a weird thing to feel in the middle of July. As far as he knows, he's not getting any presents. 

He's playing around with a new track on his turntables, _Is it new?_ , when he hears the thud against his bedroom door. More of a thawck than a knock. Not that anyone's ever knocked on his door. His eyebrows furrow ever so slightly, and he sets down his headphones before he goes to investigate. 

Opening the door, he sees nothing but an empty living room. This is not a surprise: Bro only lets himself be seen when he wants to be. He could be out there, or he could be anywhere else. Dave looks at the front of the door and finds a note, pinned up with a knife. His brow furrows slightly more. 

The note reads: “Roof Now”, and there's a shitty drawing of a blushing figure in handcuffs. It has to be a note from his brother, but if it is, Bro is totally ganking Dave's style. If Dave didn't know better, he'd have thought the image was a Dave Strider original. But he didn't draw this. At least, he's pretty sure he'd have remembered. 

Shaking his head, Dave drops the note on the floor and squares his shoulders. No point in putting this off. He almost takes his sword out before deciding to wait until he gets to the roof—the stairs can be treacherous, and he doesn't want to trip and fall on his own sword. It'd be funny in an ironic sort of way, but also painful and embarrassing in a real sort of way, and just this once, he thinks he'd rather take the chance of missing out on an ironic moment. 

He makes measured progress up the stairs—he doesn't want to dawdle and piss Bro off by making him wait, but he also doesn't want to be in anything less but top fighting form when he gets to the top. Finally, he makes it to the roof door and steps outside—

Something drops on top of him, then something, someone, shoves him face first to the ground. 

A distant part of Dave notes that the ground feels softer than the tar of the roof should, but most of him is preoccupied with the fucking net he's been caught in. Dave scrabbles for purchase to get himself upright again, his fingers finding nothing to grip in the fine mesh and the give of the strangely soft surface he's fallen on. The material is thin, and if he was in a good position to deploy his strife weapon, he'd have made short work of it. But he isn't. The person sitting on his back grabs for his wrists. 

Is it Bro? Bro's never done anything quite like this, but then Bro is always trying to keep Dave on his toes. Well, not literally. Most of the time, Bro's trying to keep Dave _off_ his feet, the asshole. Dave stills momentarily, stunned by the thought. He shakes his head. Thinking Bro's an asshole is probably the least important thing happening right now!

Whoever this person on his back is, they're strong, and their only reaction to Dave's struggles is some cursing that sounds almost amused. Which pisses Dave right off. “Get the fuck off of me!” Now that he knows for certain this person isn't Bro, he redoubles his efforts to get out from under them. What the fuck is happening? Is he being kidnapped? He hopes they don't mind being paid in Smuppets. 

Dave feels the weight shift off for a second before coming down again, then the net is off his head. Maybe now he can crawl forward? He does a sort of full body shimmy as he pushes his arms out from underneath him so he can make the attempt. He realizes his mistake the moment he makes it. 

They catch his hands over his head, managing to hold them with one hand, and Dave feels the cinch of handcuffs around one wrist, then the other. Terror displaces the anger. Oh shit. Oh shit. With all the training his Bro does with him, that training had never included how to fight in handcuffs. Then the weight lifts off of him, and for a wild second, Dave thinks this might be over. 

Hands force him onto his back, and Dave closes his eyes against the bright sun. Then the weight is on his hips, and a shadow falls over his face. He opens his eyes. 

What. The. Fuck. 

It's person-shaped, but it sure as hell isn't human. Gray skin. Fucking horns? Sharp, gleaming teeth poking out of a mouth stretched into what might have been a small smile on an actual person. Yellow eyes which remind Dave of a cat's. “What the fuck are you supposed to be?”

They? It? ignores the question, pulling Dave's hands up further. Dave hears metal moving against metal, and when it lets go of his wrists, Dave finds he can't move his arms more than an inch or two up before they're stopped. Fucking great, as if he hadn't been fucked before. “I'm talking to you, asshole. What do you want?”

This time, it looks at him, biting its lip. Then it slides its bottom back onto the tops of his thighs, pinning his legs, and its hands slide up Dave's shirt, pushing the garment up under his armpits to expose his chest. Then the hands start making lazy strokes over his skin. 

Dave shivers at the gentle touches even as his stomach churns. Well. He could honestly say, he hadn't been expecting _this._ Honestly, he wants to believe he just has a very dirty mind and that what's happening isn't what's happening, but plausible deniability walked out of the door the moment this thing started playing with his nipples. Shit.“Stop it.” He hates that his voice sounds so small. Another invasive touch. Maybe he can actually sound authoritative this time? “Stop touching me! Get your fucking hands off me!” Much better. Less frightened child, and more pissed off child. Nice work.

Finally, it? speaks, their voice loud and abrasive, like a squawky gravel pit. “It's all right,” he says (at least, Dave assumes it's a he sort of creature and not a she sort of creature). He leans forward and kisses Dave's stomach. “I want to make this good for you.”

“Fuck you,” Dave says, wishing he had enough moisture in his mouth to spit. 

“That comes later,” is the frighteningly matter of fact response. 

Well, fuck, that isn't ominous at all. 

The touches continue, gentle even with the fuck off claws Dave has finally noticed this thing has. More light kisses to his stomach, his chest. It's... it's comforting. Or maybe it would be if the situation wasn't him trussed up on the roof of his apartment with a gray monster thing feeling him up. Why is he just lying here? The thing is distracted now! Dave tries moving his arms again and finds they're still just as immovable as they were before. Even pulling harder gets him nothing but aching wrists. He pulls again, with more desperation. No. No, this isn't going to work. If he keeps at it, he'll still be raped, but he'll _also_ have some nice bloody wrists to wrap up later. Win, fucking, win.

The hands stop moving, and the weight moves back up to his hips. “I know you won't believe this,” the creature says, his voice still abrasive but softer, “but this is what you wanted.” Then there are hands on Dave's face, palms warm against his cheeks. Clawed fingers swipe gently under his eyes, and Dave realizes he's crying.“Shoosh,” he breathes, bringing his face close enough to Dave's that Dave can feel his hot breath on his lips, “It's going to be okay.”

As the thing fucking nuzzles his neck and pats his face, Dave feels himself relax in a way that he can't ever remember feeling before. He feels more tears well up in his eyes, and he doesn't fight to hold them back. It just really sucks. Here's a creature that wants to know him biblically against his will, and it's still being nicer to him than Bro ever has been. Maybe, when he'd been a baby, Bro had tried to comfort him like this, but Dave finds it hard to believe.

After five minutes and 56 seconds, _What?_ , the creature goes back to touching him more sensuously. Hands trail down Dave's sides, and the thing starts going to town on his neck, licking and leaving little kisses along his collar bone. Dave's heart pounds in his chest, and he's honest enough to acknowledge that it's not entirely due to fear. Claws lightly drag down his shoulder blades, and a wordless moan escapes Dave's lips before he can think to stop it.

The creature makes a pleased hmm against the side of his neck under his ear. “That's right. You're doing so well.”

The praise twists in his gut, and he can't decide if he's insulted or if he wants to hear it again. “Fuck you,” he says through grit teeth—he's not going to moan again. “Get off.”

Dave feels the hands move down to his waist. He feels hands fiddling with his pants. Oh. Oh, right, this is happening, isn't it? He shudders at the reminder and at the feeling of the fiddling hands brushing against the front of his pants. Isn't there something he can _do_? This is not how he wanted to lose his v-card, thank you very much. An idea comes to mind, though he's sure he'll be wasting his breath even trying it. 

After all, if he were around, wouldn't he have helped already?

With a sick feeling in his gut, Dave finds he can't definitively say 'yes.' “Bro! Bro, help me!” He tries to twist away from the creature, tries to buck him off. “Bro!”

The creature lays down on top of him, hugging him tightly. “It's all right,” he says. “Shoosh.” 

No, Dave isn't going to just let this thing shut him up this time. “Bro! Bro!”

And suddenly, his face is being peppered with little kisses. They don't stop him from crying out, but the actual crying Dave starts to do not too long afterwards does a fine job of stealing his voice away. This time, it takes 9 minutes and 8 seconds for the thing to decide Dave's calm enough to continue sexing up.

Dave's not sure if 'calm' is the right word for how he feels. Exhausted, maybe. Completely wrung out. Helpless. He's never enjoyed feeling helpless—pinned under his brother's foot after a bad strife, pinned under the unblinking eye of a camera—and he's not enjoying it much now, either. That makes sense. That's understandable. Less understandable is how much he's enjoying what this creature is doing to him. 

There are places this thing has found to touch that Dave never even knew about. His squirming has become less about trying to get away from invasive hands and more about not knowing how to deal with the intense sensations. And despite opening his pants and pulling them down to his ankles, Dave's dick and ass remain untouched. A part of him wants to get this over with so he can go back to his room and lock the door; a growing part of him just wants.

A sharp pain by his shoulder sends a jolt of pleasure all the way down to his toes. “Fuck,” Dave breathes, “Karkat, please.”

Dave blinks, his mind lifting out of the fog. Karkat? What the fuck is a Karkat? Is that the creature's name? How the fuck does Dave know its name? And why is he asking for more as though he wants this? He doesn't want this. He's pretty fucking sure he'd have remembered signing up to be violated by an alien. A male alien at that. Is it gay if you're fucked by—?

He's being kissed, roughly, hungrily, and he feels himself opening his mouth to deepen the kiss, his tongue finding far too many pointed teeth. Then the mouth leaves him, leaving him bereft. The creature (Karkat?), gives him a smile designed to show off all of his teeth.

Then he quickly slips Dave's underwear down enough to free his dick and—

Dave's heart stutters in his chest. _Oh shit, oh shit, he's going to bite the fucker off!_ He braces himself for pain. It's like nothing he's ever felt before, _Is it?_ , so hot and wet, and is that Karkat's tongue? Oh, this has to be illegal. Dave finds himself grinning, hysteria bubbling up inside him, as he remembers that this is already illegal. _Super extra illegal then_. 

It feels so good, it's hard to remember how frightened he was, should still be. How angry he should feel. How helpless he is. His wrists are starting to ache again, and he realizes he's been trying to move his hands closer to Karkat. He wants to think he's trying to stop this, but he can't lie to himself that well. Fuck. Fuck, what's wrong with him?

He barely has time to process that question when he feels himself break with a moan. Oh God. Oh God. He throws his head back into the softness beneath him. He sags, boneless. 

But Karkat keeps going. Keeps touching. And all Dave can do is tremble and gasp beneath him as his dick starts to get interested again. He needs this to stop. He doesn't want it to stop. He needs something more. “Karkat,” he moans, begging, unable to help himself. 

Karkat runs a hand through Dave's hair, his smile full of fondness that makes Dave feel warm inside. Then he stands and messes with the front of his pants, and Dave notices that he's wearing a fucking sweater. In the middle of July. In Goddamn fucking Texas. How has he not died of heat stroke yet? 

When Karkat pulls down his pants, Dave finds all thoughts of heat stroke leaving his mind. What the hell... It's a fucking tentacle. It's all Dave can do not to break down in hysterical laughter. Oh God. He gets it: this is a hentai. His life has become a fucking anime. Karkat is the eldritch horror, and he is the Japanese school girl about to get tentacle fucked within an inch of her life. This is his fate. 

And damn, if that doesn't sound like just what he needs right now. He feels shame pooling in his gut, but he can't deny what he wants. Licking his lips, he does his best to smile up at Karkat, who is staring at him with clear puzzlement. “Please,” he says, as high pitched and squeaky as he can manage, “be gentle with me, monster-kun.”

Karkat's eyes widen. Then he laughs, and it's beautiful, and Dave thinks he might just melt right then and there. He kneels down and kisses Dave on the cheek. “I won't hurt you, Dave. I'd never hurt you.”

If he wasn't lying on the ground with a dick as hard as granite, Dave thinks he might just start crying again. He doesn't know how Karkat knows his name, but it sounds so natural coming out of his mouth. “I know, dude.” He doesn't know how he knows this, but he finds he knows it.

In a smooth motion, Karkat climbs on top of Dave again. “Just relax, and let me take care of you.” Something warm and slick starts teasing Dave's entrance. “You're doing so well.”

It's like nothing he's never felt before. It's like coming home. To a real home, and not a puppet infested apartment. It's almost more than his overstimulated body can bear, but he wants as much as Karkat is willing to give him. He's approaching a peak, and he's going to enjoy that motherfucking view for as long as he can. Take some pictures to show the folks back home. 

“I love you, Dave,” Karkat moans into Dave's ear. 

And that puts him over the edge, falling into the chasm and dropping his camera into the depths below. His mind fuzzes out on the bliss of the sensation, and all he's aware of is warmth and pleasure. Kisses on his lips. Something bordering on pain inside him. Then heat literally pooling inside his guts. 

As he lies there, feeling something leak out of him, his mind starts to clear. Pieces slide together like the slowest game of Tetris. The long block is making touchdown, and BLAM! there go four rows at once. The board is clear. 

“Oh.” This was either the best idea he's ever had, or the worst, and he's too exhausted to decide now. He pulls at the restraints before remembering, oh, yeah, he's restrained. He looks up at Karkat, who is regarding him with interest. “Come on, Karkat. Let me go.”

Karkat makes a big show of thinking it over. “What's the safe word?”

Dave groans. He'd agreed to this, but he shouldn't have. “Adam Sandler.” He mock glares up into his boyfriend's grin. “If I still had the energy for a boner, that would have killed it, Karkat.”

Laughing, Karkat unlocks the handcuffs. Then he moves back into place beside Dave. 

If Dave had had the energy, he would have tackled him and given him the biggest hug. He doesn't, so he sort of flops into Karkat's lap and lets Karkat wrap an arm around him. 

The troll's face is flushed still, but he's worrying his lip. “Are you okay, Dave? Was this okay?”

“Fuck, dude, it was perfect. You're perfect.” Dave notices Karkat only looks slightly relieved. “Are you okay?”

A slow nod. “Yeah, I think I'm okay.” Then he looks away. “It was hard when you started calling out for your lusus.”

Oh, right. Dave remembers doing that now; how he'd felt when he'd done it. He pushes himself up enough to bury his face in Karkat's neck. “I'm okay. You didn't hurt me. I was scared, but I knew I would be.”

He feels Karkat shiver. “You were so pitiful,” Karkat says quietly. “But I like you better this way.” He hugs Dave tighter to him. “I'm glad you're okay.”

Dave does his best to return the hug, but he's tired. “How much longer do you think this dream bubble will last.”

A shrug. “Long enough to get our clothes back on, I hope.” Despite the words, Karkat seems in no hurry to let Dave go. 

Which suits Dave just fine.


End file.
